Two guns are better than one
by Tipplynne
Summary: Revy Two-Hands, the baddest motherfucker on the Chinese seas, crosses paths (and pistols) with the legendary Tomb Raider, Lara Croft. These two deadly young women with something to prove find themselves on opposite sides of a race for treasure in Mongolia.
1. Chapter 1

**Two-Hands | Tomb Raider Cross-over, Tag: Pfangirl**

Revy spat and roughly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. The black leather on her gloves rubbed her lips until they stung but she could still taste the Russian's blood on them. She spat again. Bastard had better not have had some fucking disease. That would be just like life, to punish her with AIDS for killing some sicko kiddie fiddler who thought he could get away with not paying the delivery boys.

"Jesus."

She spat a third time, and her mouth started to taste like her own again; cigarette smoke and the slight acidic stink from not having eaten breakfast. She was dying to light one up to calm her nerves, but business first. Instead, she kicked the corpse for good measure before pulling out her phone. She kept the small mobile wedged beside the barrel of the gun in the left side of her holster. She was covered in gore, and had to brush sticky skull fragments off her tits as she reached for it. She grimaced.

_Flick. Dials._

"_Hey __Revy."_

"Dutch." She said, thickly.

"_Uh oh. I don't like the sound of that."_

"Covered in this asshole's brains. It was either him or me, gimme a fucking break, boss."

"_Alright, Revy. __Let me guess, he didn't have any dough on him?"_

"No Dutchy, just heat."

She spat again, this time on the corpse. Her jaw had been dislocated when the piece of shit had tried to uppercut her with the barrel of his shotgun. The same shotgun she had used to decorate the walls of this shitty storeroom with his insides. Luckily, in her line of work she'd had to click her jaw back into place before, and it was one of those things that only became easier. She rubbed her mouth again, it made her jaw ache terribly but the pain kept her sharp. She heard Dutch suck heavily on his own fag on the other end of the line and then blow it out slowly, contemplatively.

"_Ok, Two-Hands. Had a bad feeling about this job anyway, left an ass taste in my mouth. Burn the goods. I'm not going to try find another buyer."_

_Click._

Usually, she would have argued. There was always another buyer. But even just thinking about this shit made her skin crawl. Those fucking Chinese and ex-Soviets got their rocks off in some pretty disturbing ways, the porn in these boxes was unbelievably twisted and savage. She hissed with spectacular sarcasm.

"Gee, boss, with what exactly do you want me to burn down this _F__ilthy. Fucking. Hole?_"

She needed something to drink that would burn the taste and stench of this fucker's insides out of her throat. Then she could use the rest to burn the goods as well as the steaming sack of shit and blood beneath her boot. She could really use a little fucking Captain in her right now. She struck the pose, digging the heel of one boot into the carnage in front of her, stuck her hands on her hips and threw her head back to cackle at the image.

"Got a little Captain in _you, _shit-for-brains?! Hahaha HAH!"

Her laughter sounded tinny, shrill and _small_ in the close, empty room. She sounded like a fucking loser and her jawline twinged painfully as she cawed. As suddenly as her mirth had taken her it was gone, like a cruel, selfish lover; fucking her dry and then fucking off.

"Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!" She rasped, suddenly overcome with self-pity. She pulled out one of the cutlasses and shot what was left of the man's skull to pieces, screaming wordlessly and hoarsely at him.

When the weapon was spent, she walked over to where she had tossed the shotgun earlier. Cracking it open she found a single unspent shell. Working quietly now, her jaw was clenched shut and hard resolve darkened her features. She ripped open the boxes of old cassettes and disks; strewing a steadily growing pyre over the man's corpse with spools of the magnetic tape, cardboard and other combustible trash in the storeroom.

It was fitting that this asshole would burn beneath a pile of his own vile filth. When she was done, she opened the shell over the pile and sprinkled the contents over it. Then she leaned in the doorway, lighting a smoke; some illegal, untaxed shit that Rock had got his hands on. She sucked in a lungful of the acrid tobacco and felt her edginess abate a little. She flicked the match at the pile and hung around long enough to make sure the fire caught properly. When she could smell cooking flesh, she walked out into the cold sunshine closing the shitty little prefab storage container's door almost all the way behind her.

Allowing the little air in was enough to feed the flames until the whole thing burnt to ground later, leaving nothing but stinking ashes.

* * *

When she got back to the dump of a hotel where they had set up base for their dealings in Mongolia, it was already dark and starting to snow. She found no one. Rock and Dutch must have gone out for a drink, _without her_, the fucking douchebags. In a sulky rage, she kicked the piece of shit plastic table in the living room flying.

She went into the kitchen and opened the cheap little bar fridge. She was starving, having not eaten since the day before. Inside was only warm beer and rum, (Bacardi, at least, Dutch knew how she felt about anything else) and some of Rock's dried goji berries. With a frown, she reluctantly pulled out the goji berries and tipped the half-empty packet into her mouth. She chewed on the raisiny little berries for while before swallowing, with a grimace. Fucking Rock was a freak; they were _nasty_.

She then slouched back into the living room, flopped down on one of the thread-bare couches and took a swig on the rum and swished it around her mouth gingerly; her jaw was starting to swell and the joint was getting stiff. She pulled the cutlasses out and put one on the floor beside her and the other behind one of the couch cushions. Then she swallowed down half the bottle, before passing out; more from the fatigue than the booze.

* * *

"Revy." Dutch's voice, coming from somewhere overhead.

"Whaaa..." She muffled back. She opened her eyes to little slits and looked up Dutch, a dark shadow in the pre-dawn grey light. She hated the cold sunlight in this fucking country. This whole place was a frozen shit-lolly. She wanted to go back to to suffocating heat of Roanopur.

"Get up, Two-Hands. We got another job."

"Wha-fuck?" _Shit_. She was not in the mood to work today. Her jaw ached, her mouth tasted like shit, and her head was about to split in two.

She opened her eyes a little wider, watching Rock move around to the table she had kicked flying the previous night, bringing it over to her and righting it up in front of her. Dutch had moved over to another couch and sat down in it. She swung up to a seated position, and nearly hurled when her head swam and her jaw seemed to want to rip itself off her face under the power of gravity.

Rock disappeared to the kitchen. Dutch ripped a can of beer out of a six-pack and threw it at her; she was so dizzy she almost didn't catch it. Almost. Dutch raised an eyebrow; even with a hangover Revy's reflexes were as fast and vicious as a pissed off little mongoose. He cracked open a beer for himself, taking a long swallow before looking at her again.

"You look like shit. You let a rookie beat you up?"

"Go suck a cock, boss." She said softly, thickly, dejected. Her jaw joint had swollen even more over night and she couldn't open her mouth very wide.

"Where the fuck were you assholes last night?" She said, flashing him an angry look, opening her beer, before taking a grateful sip. The bubbly liquid was deliciously cool, and brought lubrication and feeling back into her numb tongue.

"Pass me another. You go bar-hopping without me?"

Dutch threw her another can, which she held in her hand, propped her elbow on her knee and then gingerly rested her chin on top of the ice-cold tin. It provided a little relief.

"Yeah. Mongolia's cheerful night-life was too inviting not to turn down."

She snorted. The people in this town were as dull-eyed as reptiles; surly and hard looking. Jesus, even the few children she had seen looked as grey and glass-eyed as the militaristic surrounding buildings. These fucking ex-commie villages, where life was always hard and frozen and depressing. The only pub had been closed when they first came into town, but it looked cold and uninviting anyway.

Rock had been heating something up in the microwave and came back to the table with it. He placed a bowl of some sort of ramen before her, before sitting down next to her, with his own bowl. It steamed in the cool air, and smelled deliciously salty.

"I don't want fucking soup, Rock. Jesus, Dutch, when are we going somewhere they sell pizza?"

Dutch sighed. And Rock glanced at her sideways, blowing on then slurping up some noodles before speaking.

"_Whoosh_ \- _Shlooop. _We were meeting with a prospective client. Apparently this village is sitting on some ancient underground vault. Possibly filled with artefacts from the Mongol Empire, somehow. Also, _whooosh - shlooop_, I dont think you'll be able to chew with that fat jaw any time soon."

Revy flicked a spoonful of the hot ramen at his face and he howled. Then she blew on a spoonful of her own and swallowed. It was wonderfully warm and oily and salty and suddenly her stomach growled, awake.

"Tastes like shit." She mumbled before diving in and sucking the stuff down so fast her tongue was seared. While she slurped away like a savage, Rock scowled at her and Dutch went on.

"Our client thinks himself a descendent of Ghengis Khan and is keen to get first dibs on whatever is down there. Unfortunately, the government has brought in an outside contractor, an archaeologist, to go down there and evaluate and retrieve the most valuable artefacts – if any – first."

Revvy came up for air, wiping ramen dribble off her chin, to take a long swig of beer. She looked down at her near empty bowl.

"S... what? We go down there and bump off some cranky old academic fart and his entourage of budding young farts on a field trip? Sounds easy enough. You gonna eat that, Rock?"

Rock rolled his eyes and sighed, but gave her his bowl anyway. She took it without thanking him and carried on as though she were a starving animal. Dutch grinned.

"_Her_ entourage. An English woman. She will have the help of some Mongolian special forces, footmen really, to provide escort and guarantee her safety. Probably guarantee she doesn't get any ideas about helping herself to anything shiny down there too."

"Hah! Even easier. Some toff bitch from the isles and a bunch of Mongols! Might even be fun. We get to help ourselves to whatever the client doesn't want?"

"Oh yeah. And we will be getting paid well for this. Client heads up a Chinese triad."

That made her pause. Working with the triad was sometimes tricky, they took failure on your part very personally. Ah fuck it. Failure was unlikely and the payoff might be huge. Then Rock interrupted her happy thoughts.

"The, uh, archaeologist. She's no stuffy professor. Ever heard of Lara Croft? The Tomb Raider?"

Revy choked up laughing.

"The fucking _Tomb Raider_?! Wahahaha! Fuck! What kind of fucking title is that?" She snorted some ramen into her nose and giggled and then cackled. Then she noticed neither Dutch nor Rock were laughing.

"What?"

Dutch smiled at her, his teeth brilliantly white in that dark face.

"Really Revy. You never heard of Lady Croft and the whole Yamatai thing? It was on the news a few years back, some whelp college girl practically taking out an entire island of military and some kind of tribal race on her own. Nearly killed her."

Rock picked up were Dutch left off. Sipping on his beer first, he looked at her seriously while talking to her. It made her furious when he spoke to her like this. Felt too much like a lecture. She had to use all restraint not to punch him in his sincere, sweet face. Ugh.

"She's apparently unpredictable, a real loose cannon. She crops up in the news from time to time, found some artefact or another in some godforsaken hole or another. She beat the shit out of some reporter a once. I don't think we should expect this to be easy. And the Mongolian government knows the Triad has got eyes on these tombs. They'll be expecting trouble."

She shrugged and wiggled her jaw a little. Manageable.

"Ah whatever. I've dealt with stupid bitch hard-cases before." She pulled each cutlass out and checked their magazines in turn.

"Bring on the crazy Lady from England. When do we move?"

Benny walked in from one of the bedrooms, yawning and dragging his fingers through his hair.

"Tonight. Throw me a cold one, Dutch?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Tomb Raider | Black Lagoon Crossover, Tag: Pfangirl**

**Revvy's Perspective: Chapter 2, Following Lara's perspective, Chapter 1 (Under Pfangirl's Account)**

* * *

Revvy was sitting at the back of a shitty, locally rusted taxi fingering her extra cartridges. She peered up every now and again, checking to see if the toff and her Mongolian escort exited the building. She sighed irritably and swore at the tiny slip of Asian woman next to her.

"Fuck's sake, Shenhua! What the fuck are we waiting for?! Lets just go down there and get the goods before she returns!"

The Taiwanese assassin took a drag of her cigarette and shook her head fetchingly. Two cheap little plastic blades for earrings rattled delicately below her ears.

"Tsk tsk... Typicaw twinkie. You got noh respec faw the dead. Those ancient Mongows put things in place down there that would tear you seven extra sets of matching asshoes."

Revvy rolled her eyes.

"Superstitious Taoist twat. What the fuck do you know about Ghengis Khan?"

"Ptoh! Stupid twinkie! Yu think I knoh fuck-nothing, but I tew yu, I know fuck-aw!

You a fucking trigger-happy hothead, twinkie. Mr Chang tells me that kurazy Engrish bitch has survived an entire isrand of inbred paramiritary by fucking or killing them all... or someting. She's crawled out of more evil holes in the ground than a cockroach in yoh shitty apahtment. She beat the shit out of some reportoh with his own camera or cock... or someting. You really wanna go fuck around in those tombs with that shit breathing poisonous engrish tea fumes down yoh neck?"

Revvy was still choking back her snorts of laughter when Dutch growled a soft warning from the front seat.

"Heads up. Here comes our contact."

A man dressed in the Mongol boarder patrol uniform walked up to the taxi. He held a duffel bag at his side. Another of Chang's men. He nodded to Dutch and climbed in the back, beside Shenhua. Revvy looked questioningly at Dutch while Chang's men conferred in Chinese. Then the first, their driver, drawled in slow, but good English.

"The English woman is going down tonight. We are lucky. There are two female guards at the tomb's entrance tonight. We go now to relieve them of life's duty."

He smiled a flat, reptilian smile and started up the taxi. While they drove, the newcomer handed Revvy and Shenhua female military uniforms. Revvy shrugged the uniform over her skin-tight black wetsuit, while Shenhua stripped indecently down to nothing but her hidden knife holsters and thong. The man in the back-seat tried his best to seem indifferent to Shenhua's exposed tits, but Revvy found it hard to believe he was completely unaffected, when even she herself was secretly admiring the other woman's perfectly pert mounds and outrageously hard nipples.

Shenhua had a fuck-tonne of nipple confidence. She snorted as Shenhua took her time getting changed, brushing indecently against the slowly reddening Triad informant.

"You're such a whore, Chinglish."

Shenhua chuckled at that. They both knew that if the man in the back seat tried anything or even leered at Shenhua, he would find a small blade suddenly wedged between his cock and his balls before he even realised what was going on.

* * *

The compound appeared to be a military storage area, with a hastily set up prefab Officers' building and a few storage containers housing supplies. Only a trained eye would see that the relaxed looking soldiers were armed far beyond the requirements of a storage barracks or that theses soldiers all had the cold eyes of deadly efficiency and the confident glide of professional killers.

Which help Revvy and Shenhua fit right in. The guards they had just dispatched were still warm in their bunks and would probably not even get a chance to go cold before they were discovered. Even thought the Triad double agent was clearly high up - he had marched Revvy and Shenhua to their posts without any complaint or raised eyebrows - they had very little time to get this operation right.

All these mercs masquerading as the desk jockeys of the Mongolian Military made her skin crawl. She resonated with far too many sullen psychotic gazes to feel comfortable. It was even worse than spending time in Balalaika's fanatic company. Even Shenhua seemed uncomfortable, murmuring to Revvy on her right while scanning the compound.

"Twinkie. I think if that Engrish bitch no come soon, we cut loose. I no need this commission so much."

But their luck was in, she felt the small device at her side vibrate, twice. The English woman had arrived at the compound. They had not dared earpieces and radio contact, for fear of drawing attention to themselves, so Dutch had given them small pieces of tech that could recieve and transmit audio, but also vibrate signals to the wearer. Very inconspicuous.

Three more faint buzzes against her hip indicated what they had thought, the woman was arriving with a Mongolian contingent. With any luck the Mongolians would be smart enough to dispatch the Lady after she had retrieved the goods, making less work for Shenhua and herself. With even more luck, though Revvey had doubts, the English woman would live up to her rep and take out some of the guards in the process.

A group of people were now walking toward her and Shenhua from the other side of the compound. Both women straightened and tensed up, almost imperceptably, playing the part of attentive soldiers. Behind them, the entrance to the ancient underground complex was concealed beneath a plain grey shipping container, supposedly housing Military surplus.

The Mongolian escort, political looking sort, was walking beside the woman Revvy had only barely glimpsed earlier. There were a group of six men, walking around them in a loose formation. This bitch must be stupid. But her impression started to change even as Revvy only started really getting a chance to size her up

She was young, but she moved like a predator. Her eyes and face were fatigued, a detail the opponent automatically filed away for later advantage. There was too much sensibility and emotion plainly visible on that face, but when she turned her head just the right way, Revvy could recognise the deadly glint of a determined survivor in her eyes. Revvy's heart started to pound with excitement when she saw the double holster and twin USPs on the English woman's hips. She again felt the empty ache for the reassuring embrace of her own shoulder holster and cutlasses, nestling in a duffel bag at Dutch's side somewhere.

But this guards uniform hadn't left her defenceless either, flash bombs, smoke bombs and two tiny grenades were clipped to her hip, and she had some form of semi-automatic shotgun strapped to her back, with a pistol of some mysterious make she didn't recognise on her left hip.

The mercenaries saluted and opened the doors to the storage container, as the Triad informant had instructed them to do. The bureaucrat stood to the side to wish the Lady Croft good luck, and the English woman lead the the six men in heavy gear into the container and straight down into the entrance of the tombs, as though she stepped down there every other day.

As she walked past Revvy, the Archaeologist's eyes met hers, and the two women were snared in a moment of cool, mutual appraisal.

As soon as the party had disappeared down into the catacombs, Revvy swore.

"Shit."

"What's the mattoh, twinkie? You pissing yohself for a whiny wet puppy? I disappointed! She rook rike a spoiled, sulky brat, not a kirrer."

"She's going to be trouble."


End file.
